Never Easy
by GeekAtWork19
Summary: Annabeth Chase may be a perfectionist, but she does have ADHD. She was lucky enough to be accepted into a prestigious university despite her personal turbulences at home. Join Annabeth as she struggles to open up to old and new faces in college in order to succeed. After all, it's never easy figuring out who our true friends are.
1. A Senior's Choices

**A.N.:** **Are you guys glad I'm alive?! Please check out my profile if you wanna know how my stories are going.**

 **The undertone of the story is quite personal to me but the plot is completely fictional. I have a problem with Nerdy Annabeth or Popular Annabeth in FanFiction world. The Annabeth I have always related to - the one I got to know in the books - are surely neither. She is prideful, aggressive and intimidating. She always has a plan. She leads a stressful life, not only because the events of her teenage years suck** (absent/goddess mother, missing boyfriend, busy huntress best friend, newbie quest-mates, war strategising, ship-building, architect of Olympus, a whole camp who looks up to her) **, but she is a perfectionist in a sense where she has to solve everything by herself for it to be right and it has to be done right or else everyone dies. This story is the reimagined life of Annabeth without the whole demigod complication - she's a mortal dedicated in learning while facing some learning difficulties (ADHD dyslexia). She might sound a little Percy, but she's much more straightforward.**

 **I do hope you enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: Characters originate from Rick Riordan.**

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 **CHAPTER 1**  
 **A SENIOR'S THOUGHTS**

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 **"Look, Annabeth.** You may be this school's star student, but you have a problem."

I already know where Mr. Brunner's lecture is going like the back of my hand. As my favourite history teacher and counsellor since Freshman year, I'm sure he means well. I _know_ he does. But sometimes I wish that people could understand that it's not easy to have people expect so much of you. It's not easy having yourself expect so much out of you either.

I watched Mr. Brunner pace in his small office while I sit in the beanbag chair before him. He called me up during lunch time with a serious look in his eyes, which I really shouldn't refuse. My back's straight and my chin's up - it's all I have of my pride ever since I got kicked out of this _one_ class. It happened a couple of lessons before lunch period. Minor disagreement, that's all. You see, my temper hasn't been very tame lately because I have been confused. It's not pretty when I start acting up. I got this e-mail last week...

"You are a well-rounded student who impresses every teacher from every department, from mathematics to PE. You are a committed varsity athlete. You are head of the arts committee in the Student Council. You're improving at an alarming rate after pushing yourself to take AP English despite your dyslexia." He finally made eye contact with me and I tried not to lose the staring game. I refuse to feel ashamed. "I've been so proud of you, you have no idea. With that ungodly scene you made in Room 33, you have greatly disappointed me."

He broke our eye contact before I got to do it first. Yes, I felt humiliated for getting into trouble within the first month of Senior Year, but I'm not even sorry. I have been so stressed about my academics, family and future that I'm turning apathetic about life. I've been eating at odd times to avoid a list of people, procrastinating homework by doing some "therapy painting", sleeping after midnight every night and forcing myself to jog every sunrise.

Uh oh. Am I being _careless_ about my health? If only caring about myself could earn me some college credits…

"Do you have your medication? You know what, forget it. I bet those pills are still unopened, sitting in cobwebs at the back of your cupboard, behind empty cans of your hair and makeup products."

 _One_ : I don't wear makeup to school. _Two_ : with curly hair that frizzes out of the blue, those hair products save me from the wrath of my scowling stepmother. It's getting hard to keep my composure after an insult like that.

My mental image of my scowling stepmother morphed into that of a scowling Mr. Brunner snapping his fingers in front of me. _Focus_. "What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?"

I choked out the only thing I've been thinking about since I discovered my mother me after I was diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia as a mere toddler: "It's not my fault."

Mr. Brunner's eyes softened as he sighed in frustration. He took a seat behind his desk and lightly drummed his fingers on his desk. Really, he had always been so patient with people; I was actually glad he still has the capacity to get mad.

"You want me to apologise to Mr. Stevenson?" I asked.

"No," he began. "I want _you_ to _want_ to apologise to Mr. Stevenson. For calling him an incompetent AP Calculus teacher just because you weren't listening to him and couldn't answer his question on the spot."

I scoffed. "He's always been a lousy teach-"

"You sassed a male adult with a history of mental breakdowns in front of his own class. Then you punched the School President _on the face_ -"

"He laughed at me!"

"-called him names with with great profanity, encouraged your classmates to do the same and taunted him that you'd do a better job as President than Obama, let alone him, even though you didn't even run for candidacy."

No regrets there.

Although after a long, uncomfortable pause, my nervous humour took control of me. "How did you even find out? Been spying on me?"

"Miss Chase, today was the first time during my years in high school that I had to have a counselling session with a colleague," he stated distastefully. "It was not pretty."

I smiled. Surprisingly, Mr. Brunner smiled back. The thing is, I view Mr. Brunner as the father I wish I had, so his opinions and feelings do matter. He tried to understand me. He was proud of me, not because I was smart, but because he saw so much potential in me. He helped me find love in athletics, he helped me manage my time and he listened. He always made time to listen.

My own father, the history professor, always jumped to conclusions and never listened. Father probably thought I cheated for my good grades because I was practically disabled in his eyes. He thought so low of me since he didn't plan on having me in the first place. Deep down, I know he can't take me seriously because he sees too much of my mother in me: the eyes, the stubbornness, the hobbies. I don't blame my father for being hopeless at moving on from my mother, but I do blame him for lacking the will to appreciate the fact that he does have a daughter who does well in school. Other parents would kill to have a kid like me - not to sound arrogant or anything.

Another thing I loved about Mr. Brunner is that he never gave up on me. "What's bothering you, Annabeth?"

I was never good at confiding in other people nor was I good at trusting. I wasn't popular but I knew lots of people. I wouldn't call them friends exactly, but necessary acquaintances. It's just that… I've never been good at the whole friendship thing. My step-family is a recurring example of someone I don't get along well but I have to deal with everyday nonetheless. There have only been only four people in the world that I have ever trusted: Mr. Brunner, Thalia, Luke and Percy. They are people I legit consider as friends. Last time I saw the latter three was the summer of last year in a camp for ADHD kids in Long Island, New York. I stopped going, after doing so since I was 7, because I was intent in getting into MIT and I was losing my game in school. So I've lost contact with them ever since, which doesn't suck that much at this point because I've always been terrible at keeping in contact.

It reminded me. _Poor Percy…_ I remember he always hung out with me because we were always in the same team and his best friend kept ditching for some girlfriend. I must have left him hanging in camp because people always teased us together and I just had to ditch camp this year. He probably hates me. We could have dated - he was a great guy - if I weren't so focused in my school life and weren't so terrible at sustaining relationships.

"Do I get to be excused from art class?" I suggested not so innocently.

He laughed in the most polite sense. "As you wish. Would you like tea as well?"

"Maybe later."

I took a breath before explaining my sudden loss of control to Mr. Brunner. I have to remember what happened last week had to be a good thing. An opportunity to pull myself together. "I got an e-mail."

Mr. Brunner's response was to proceed typing furiously on the computer with an eyebrow raised. _Keep talking_ , he meant.

"I haven't talked to my father about it because he'll freak… Well… So my long-lost mother wanted me to patch things up with her. Invited, to be precise. She must have known that I've always been better off doing something engineering related rather than be a historian like my father. Do you think that interests could be genetic? So, she invited me to be her intern in Olympia, Mr. Brunner. That's in Greece. Euro is expensive. But it's Olympia, Greece: her hometown, where she's always been all this time. Isn't this a little suspicious - contacting me ever since..."

My counsellor knew how to take a hint. When to stop me from faltering. "What does she do?"

"She's a landscape architect. There's this project she's taking near Mount Olympus!"

The surprise in Mr. Brunner's voice was evident. "And to think that you've always wanted to go to Greece. You're half Greek and you don't even know!"

I stole the moment to laugh at all the coincidence. The laugh didn't last long because it reminded me of how scared I actually was to meet her again after around… 10 years plus? That's crazy.

Mr. Brunner seemed to notice the worry slip through my eyes. "Are you excited?"

"Yes," I answered a little too soon. Too eagerly. Am I lying to myself or am I finally being myself? But one thing was sure: "I need to know. I need to finally understand why she left me. This is my chance."

"But when is this internship?" he asked.

Then a crazy plan hit me. It was perfect. "I want to spend a whole year with her. I think that the work experience will be good for me. _And_ I get to take advantage of being in Greece, can you believe it?! The perfect gap year. I am absolutely convinced."

But my beloved teacher was a little skeptical about it. "You think your father will be okay with that?"

"He owes me."

"Does that mean I won't be helping you with CommonApp this year?"

His voice was tinged with sadness; I wasn't going to let that last. He had always been there for me and I can't imagine him _not_ being there in the biggest step of my teenage years: college applications.

"You will," I assured him. "I think it's best to apply this year. It should help my dad warm up to the idea of me choosing mother over him. Also, in case I fail to run away from home again." My teacher shot me a quick glare. "Kidding. Promise. But hey, do you think they'll let me defer my year of entry?"

"You still have you heart set on MIT?"

I nodded eagerly.

"I'll have to get back to you about that," he told me. "In the mean time, I will be fine-tuning that recommendation letter for you."

I smiled at the very thought that Mr. Brunner had always had a recommendation letter ready for me. Though, after a moment filled with keyboard clicks, Mr. Brunner firmly told me: "I don't want to see your grades fluctuate like last year."

"No promises," I declared. It's the last year of varsity. I wouldn't want to lose. Besides, last year, I've been fighting with my dad about my intentions on going to MIT - he wasn't too happy about his daughter going to a school specialising in technology, making me lose interest in school academics. It was a risky boycott to get him to listen to me.

"Think of what your mother would think of you," he bargained. "Good grades will definitely convince your father. Good report grades will also convince MIT. You need your GPA to be real close to 4.0, which is less than likely because of your lack of focus last year. But you've got that 2320 on the SAT you decided to take during the summer. Good decision-making skills. Excellent initiative. Always prepared… Have I not written that in the letter?"

"Do I get a sneak peak?" I joked.

"I don't think your perfectionism can't handle me romanticising your personality flaws. It's not good for a young ego."

We laughed.

Little did I know that it would be my last proper counselling session with him. I still miss him to this day: the moment I step onto Boston ground, pulling my heavy suitcase out of the car towards my dorm, with my mother on the driver's seat. It's been two years. I wonder what he'd say to me...

Mr. Brunner always had faith in me. Now, as a college student, I have to start having faith in myself.

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 **Read and review and thank you!**

 **"Plot holes" will be filled as the story progresses.**


	2. Moving In

**CHAPTER 2:**  
 **MOVING IN**

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 **I was never fond of third-wheeling.** The moment I saw my future college roommate pillow-fighting with a boy, I couldn't help but freeze on the spot. It was the perfect moment to remind myself that I was not - or rather, have not been - diagnosed with social anxiety, therefore I had nothing to worry about. But I had every right to begin second guessing the meticulousness of the therapists I'd been forced to see in middle school when the dark, dark eyes of my future roommate stared emotionlessly at me.

"Hey, it's your roommate!" exclaimed the boy, nudging the girl.

I carefully observed the couple before me. The girl had an air of confidence with a good posture, but the nervousness of her dark eyes was something I knew all too well as I was used to wearing the same expression throughout high school. Her long hair was neatly braided down her back, contrasting with the bright purple t-shirt she wore that had faded writing. Funnily enough the boy beside her wore the same shirt. He was very tall (considering that many have noted myself as tall), has closely cropped hair and the brightest of blue eyes. The look of the boy screamed perfection; I couldn't help but feel a little wary of him. Perfect boys aren't real. Then again, I have always been quite the skeptic.

Though despite their matching shirts, I internally sighed in relief. According to the boy's grip on the girl's shoulder (which was the same as the bro grips she'd see jocks on the field give each other in the midst of a game), the two were only friends. It seems that I would luckily _not_ be a third-wheel on her first year of university. Am I being insensitive?

Then the boy politely gestured to the large suitcase I was dragging into the room. "You need help with that?"

"No, thanks. I got this."

I plopped the suitcase on the bare mattress and sat on it, getting a feel of my new room. This feels utterly unbelievable. There were two beds on opposite ends of the reasonably-sized room, accompanied by a desk, wardrobe and a shelf attached to the wall. It was unfurnished as expected. Separating the two sides was a large line of duct tape on the floor to the walls (of which I thanked the gods for not duct-taping the window). Whether it was the building owner's or the roommate's idea, I sure did appreciate the idea of my roommate not intruding on my things on _my_ side of the room. Looking ahead at my roommate's side of the room: it was already furnished with a leather chair, bed covers, a desk lamp and a large poster of Ancient Roman ruins on her side of the wall. I had a good feeling about her taste.

My discomfort arose again as I watched the couple before me animatedly whispering at each other until my roommate dramatically sighed and plopped on her own mattress.

"I'm Jason," Mr. Perfect called himself. We shook hands as I introduced him my name. He was friendly enough, I suppose. "Your new roommate here is Reyna. We're from Bay Area, San Fransisco."

I decided to take up the courage to be more talkative. "Really? I also went to high school in San Francisco but I took a gap year. My dad's still over there."

"That's cool," Jason said. "What did you do?"

"I became my mom's intern in Greece," I replied, trying not to sound too proud of it. But really, how can I help it? My absent mother gave me the career boost I had always wanted in order to be an architect. I couldn't really hate on Mother-ex-machina now, can I? Not that my emotional side would agree.

 _Forgiveness isn't supposed to be that easy. She left you._

"That's really cool," he decided. "My dad lives and works in Greece but he never lets me visit. And since the sister I usually live with is always out and about, I've practically lived with Reyna's family since forever. You're lucky to have her as a roommate. She's the best friend a guy could ever ask for. _I'd_ know."

I truly do admire how Jason beamed at his friendship with Reyna the roommate. But my girl sensors couldn't help but wonder once more, if Reyna saw their relationship as something platonic too. I tried not to cringe at the thought of Jason openly friend-zoning my poor roommate. I will ask her one day, given that she turns out to be a good friend to me.

Then with a phone ring, I watched as Jason exited my new room with an apologetic smile. Despite his jock-like appearance, I'm getting the vibe that perhaps this Jason guy was alright. Friendly too. _Especially_ compared to my future roommate.

Still seated on the bare mattress, I tried not to look too startled when I realised my roommate was saying my name repeatedly like a mantra. A little guilty for getting distracted by internally judging my roommate's slightly cold demeanour, I had to mumble a little sorry.

Focus, Annabeth. If anyone notices, they'll make you take those drugs again! Gods did I hate to take my stimulants.

"I was trying to start a conversation but you zoned out," Reyna deadpanned - a little too coldly. I wasn't one to cower though. "I was asking which program you'll be doing for the Freshman Orientation."

"Architecture and Planning. You?"

"Leadership and Entrepreneurship," Reyna answered. "I was supposed to do it with Jason but he was placed in the Aerospace program instead. I thought I was going to have a friend to walk with me through orientation and Jason is pretty much the only real friend I've ever had. MIT is pretty intimidating, you know."

"I know, right?" I replied with a light chuckle. "I've never been great at keeping friends around either. So why don't we start being each other's first university friend?"

Reyna smiled genuinely, oddly surprising me. "Well we _are_ roommates. It doesn't sound like a bad idea at all."

In a sudden, Jason entered our room again, slightly jogging, carrying a couple more duffel bags. He settled them at the foot of Reyna's bed, kicking them toward's her legs.

"And that's the last of your things, Your Highness," he huffed. "I'm sorry Hylla had to leave so soon. And your parents-"

"-are busy," said Reyna, eyes fixed towards the window. "Spare me the sympathy. They'll come over next week so prepare for a fancy meal, Superman."

Jason laughed. "Well we're having lunch tomorrow, right? Maybe you could bring Annabeth with you and I'll bring my roommate, Leo. Then by next week, when orientation is over, we'll be finishing off those PE credits early, okay?"

I continued to sit there awkwardly, watching as the two friends hug a goodbye for quite a while, whispering what I guessed were something like words of comfort and encouragement. My heart wrenched at that scene (just a little). When do _I_ get to have a sincere friend like Jason is to Reyna? Will I find one during my studies? Does I even _need_ one? Can _anyone_ be trusted these days?

As soon as her best friend left her, Reyna's eyes wandered to my empty side of the room. Her dark eyes really does have a penchant for my discomfort. "So… you need help furnishing?"

I held the urge to snap that I'm a big girl and I could do it by herself, but… that's not the right approach to making friends, is it? So I nodded with a not-so-forced smile. I was still trying to get the hang of giving people genuine smiles, by the way.

"By the way," I began. "What was that PE credit Jason mentioned?"

"It's compulsory college credit," stated Reyna. "Didn't you know?"

Sometimes, I wished that little things - like not knowing something - wouldn't get me so worked up. At that moment, the world must have frozen for me at that very statement. _Didn't you know?_ Why didn't I know? Was I really this unprepared for her college life? What else didn't I know?

"Woah, you don't need to look so panicked," reassured my roommate. "The info is all in that booklet downstairs."

"What booklet?"

"You know, the one that the university mascot's been handing out to everyone?"

I frowned. "I thought he only existed for bimbos to take selfies with."

"Annabeth," counselled Reyna. "This is MIT. You shouldn't really judge them as bimbos. How stupid can they be?"

 _Couldn't possibly be any better than me,_ the back of my pompous head offered.

"You think you want to help me get the rest of my things from downstairs?" I offered after quite the pause in conversation. "My mom has been waiting for a while."

"I'd love to."

Really, I couldn't help but feel a little giddy as I approached my mother's car with Reyna. It looks like my college resolution of making new friends could work out well.

* * *

That night, Reyna and I decided to bond by spending our dinner with pizza and chitchats in that room. Our room. We figured that the best way they could be good friends and roommates would be if we could comfortably talk to each other about ourselves. It was working better than expected… but it didn't mean it was perfect and not awkward. We kept treading into each others personal standings and got defensive of our respective views. Yet I was so intrigued by the notion that disagreements could lead to a thing called mutual respect. Is this what real friendships feel like?

"So you don't hate your mother?" began Reyna.

"Do you hate yours?" I countered.

"It's different," she tried to explain. "I know my mother's there. She gave me a roof and paid my tuition in school. I don't see her nor do I spend time with her much but she's there, you know? I respect everything she'd doing. But you…"

I really did wish that Reyna's speech would trail off forever so I wouldn't have to talk about my feelings. But I needed a Mr. Brunner replacement. Someone who understood why I have all these strengths and weaknesses and how I deal with them. Someone who sees me as a human, rather than a temperamental robot who strives to exceed in everything. I have a feeling that Reyna would make a good Mr. Brunner to me. Is she majoring in psychology?

"She has been absent for over half of my life," I vented. "To the point where my dad had the guts to find a new lady to have kids with. But her situation was something that I understood… I think. Her father was overbearing and didn't approve of her fooling around with an American man. She had to leave… Not necessarily leave _me_ because she always thought that my dad could provide for me better. Yeah, I resented her. I thought she ditched because she couldn't deal with my problems. But it turned out that she actually did help me overcome those struggles from afar. She's… trying, so I have to respect that."

"You had problems?"

" _Have_ ," I corrected. "I'm dyslexic but I'm getting the hang of it. I'm also ADHD but I try not to rely on my meds."

Reyna looked at me in awe, mouth still slightly full with pizza. "Yet here you are, enrolled at one of the most prestigious universities in the world."

I remember I was 7 years old when I was diagnosed. A couple of weeks later, all of my mother's things were gone from our home in Virginia. I acted out at home and refused to do anything but try to read in the corner of the class in school. One day, I hid myself in the back of my neighbour's - Mr. Castellan's - car and woke up at some camp in New York. It was an outbound haven made for ADHD kids, where Mr. Castellan's son and friend would start attending. Funny thing is that they let me enter the camp. Apparently, my name was already in the database and my enrolment was paid for, but I doubt it was my father. But my mother _did_ have a habit of planning things. I spent a year learning about what she was and has been up to since she moved away from the States.

But Reyna didn't have to know the details.

"You're pretty level headed, you know," Reyna spoke with the faintest smile. "Not many people could be that forgiving of an absent parent. Not many people would let said parent drive them to their university orientation. Wisdom come from acceptance, don't you think?"

I raised my can of Coke in the air, inviting my roommate for a toast. "Here's to not being the foolish youths people expect us to be."

She picked up her can of Sprite and clanked it with mine.

 _Here's to a new friend_ , I pridefully thought in my head.

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 **A.N.: We didn't get enough interaction between Annabeth and Reyna in the series considering they were supposed to be Greek/Roman counterparts. I really like the whole Jeyna bromance. How do you guys feel about relationship? I'm planning to add Piper to the story soon but I'm still not sure who would be her roommate (not Hazel 'cause she's still in high school in this story).**

 **Please make my day by reviewing and/or following!**


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